


Cumin

by ChaoticBlades



Series: Exploring the Mainland [1]
Category: Tales of Legendia
Genre: Food, Gen, SPOILERS ABOUND, Spoilers, the entire premise is spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 22:22:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3545906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticBlades/pseuds/ChaoticBlades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Senel remembers a recipe from his youth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cumin

It all began with a gust of wind.

At first Senel couldn’t figure out at all what was so special about it. Just that every time it picked up, there was something nostalgic about it. It called to mind the memory of soft hands sifting through his hair, rubbing his back.

When the breeze picked up again, he was struck by the same feeling. Out of nowhere he thought of a face possessing rigid angularity that couldn’t have been more mismatched with its warm green eyes. Wisps of her wild, light slate hair jutted out despite the stern braid she wore. There was another face too, a softer one with blue eyes and straight hair of a deep purple and a deep, crackling voice.

The air settled again and he realized that, for the first time in over a decade, he’d not only thought of his parents but also was able to remember their faces.

So the next time the wind blew, he followed it, sprinting all the way to the bakery. It was when he opened the door to the shop and a new smell spilled out that he realized what had caught his attention: displayed proudly with a sign declaring it a recent acquisition was a bowl of long, striped seeds.

“Oh!” exclaimed the baker, clumsily grinding another batch with mortar and pestle, “You came just in time, Senel. Thanks to the trade agreements the Merines helped sort out, we got a new spice in from Crusand!”

“Cumin,” Senel said numbly. The baker exclaimed his surprise at his knowledge. Senel barely heard him, accepting the mortar and pestle that were excitedly placed in his hands. Slowly, with half-remembered motions and an even less familiar rhythm, he ground the seeds into powder.

Faint impressions were coming back to him: sitting on the floor as a small child and spilling the powder he was making by mistake, the savory scent that clung to his father no matter where he was, the way it competed with the acrid smell that no amount of washing could remove from his mother’s clothes. After the border skirmish that had killed both of them and left him an orphan, he hadn’t thought much about them at all. Hadn’t wanted to. In a way he was lucky that the scraggly surviving children had been willing to allow someone as young he was into their fold –they were the ones who thought to cross the sands to start anew in the capital. What few survived the vastly different environment ended up in gangs, and no one had time to despair when they had to work so hard just to stay fed.

“Senel?”

“Oh, uh, sorry,” he said, scratching awkwardly at his neck. He handed the tools back. “Hey, about the cumin-“

“The first unit is free, 500 gald per unit afterwards.”

500 gald? For a moment he was ready to punch the man.

_Easy, easy, breathe. Remember what the others have been saying._

They’d better be happy because he barely considered assaulting him. He even managed to avoid glaring (or so he thought –the baker would later add it to the gossip mill).

Paying for a few units, he asked, “You wouldn’t happen to have lamb, would you?”

“Making an exotic dish?” The baker checked his wife. “Do we?”

“Lamb?” She frowned. “No, I’m sure we don’t. But we can arrange an order for you.”

Two weeks and a solid chunk of gald later, Senel let Shirley into his house. Because she was among friends, she wore clothes unbefitting of her rank, though they were still of Ferines make, as she had taken to wearing.

“I’m sorry I was so late. I hope I haven’t held anything up,” she apologized.

He gave the small smile that was slowly becoming more natural for him. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like this is some big, important meeting or anything.” Shirley having crossed the threshold, he drew her into a tight hug. “I just… I wanted to see everyone.”

She giggled fondly. “For a while I didn’t think I would ever hear you say something like that.” She squeezed tighter then released, sliding back to hold him at shoulder length. “I’m glad.”

If he had looked closer he would have seen the pinpricks of happy tears at the corner of her eyes. Instead, he smiled slightly wider and headed to his kitchenette to fiddle with cookware. Shirley laughed to herself at joined the others in their loud circle at the foot of the stairs.

Ducking under one of Moses’ sandals, which had come flying towards her head –he and Norma were having a squabble over… his practice of tossing treasure into a pile on the floor apparently, and it had gotten physical- she took Jay up on the spot he offered next to him on the bottom step.

“In case you’re curious, I’ve already prepared the escape route,” he said dryly, “I’m assuming, based on certain exploits of yours, that heights aren’t a problem?”

“Oh, Jay.” Settling in, she caught up on the recent comings-and-goings of the others by way of Jay, having to occasionally shift to dodge one of Norma’s arm flails or Chloe reenacting a recent battle.

Not long after, the squeak of a cheap rolling table (bought for Senel by Will so that food could be transported more easily when they had get-togethers) announced that whatever Senel was making was ready. It was covered in trays that themselves held baskets, a crockpot, a pot full of some kind of fine grain, covered dishes, and stacks of plates, bowls, and cutlery.

“About time, Senel!” cried Moses, “It feels like it’s been ages!”

“I don’t want to hear that from the guy who insisted on coming over as soon as I opened my mouth.” Without looking, he smacked Norma’s hand away from the cloth covering the basket nearest to her.

She yelped. “Hey, hey, what was that for, Senny?!”

Senel didn’t immediately answer. In fact, he seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. Even the less observant members of the group noticed that it wasn’t the kind of seriousness that was the norm for him. It held much more gravity; Chloe recognized it from when she confronted him about the Quiet Nerifes.

Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke. “The other day I remembered a recipe I haven’t had in a long time. I wanted to make it for you guys.”

They blinked.

“Wait, that’s it?” said Norma and Chloe in unison.

“Yeah, Senel, with how you were acting I thought something bad happened,” Moses grumbled, shifting out of the way as Senel placed the trays of food in the center of the circle.

Will, faster on the uptake, asked, “So then, is this Ferines food?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Some of it anyway.” The final tray was placed on the ground and he, after a moment’s pause, he settled down between Chloe and Shirley’s place on the step, ignoring (or rather, not getting) the cajoling the action spurred from Norma.

“I see.” Jay leaned forward, curious. “I must say, I’ve never had the chance to try Crusandian food before. This will be interesting.”

The cloth dropped back down as Norma let go, this time out of startlement. It was enough to let them all get a whiff of spice and savory meat. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, Crusan- oh yeah, I almost forgot.” She tousled her hair in embarrassment.

“So what is it called?” asked Shirley. She shifted from the step onto the floor, grabbing a bowls and spoons for herself and Jay.

He shrugged, uncovering the basket Norma had fiddled with to reveal a pile of triangular pastries stuffed with meat. The other baskets contained various kinds of flatbread, some very thin, the rest puffy and almost the width of a sandwich bun. In the crockpot was a spicy lamb stew, which he proceeded to ladle on top of a serving of the grain.

“It might not taste right,” he warned, spooning up a helping of the stew, “I couldn’t find any Crusandian recipe books, so this is all based on what I remember it smelling like.”

Moses beat Senel to getting the first taste and let out a holler. Whether it was out of satisfaction or just a reaction to the spice was unclear. “Your nose must have some memory! This is great!” He then put down his bowl and all but ran to the sink.

“Hey, Moses, you better not put your mouth around the faucet again!” Senel called over his shoulder. Moses blubbed a reply, having already done so, and Jay made a disgusted noise.

“Oh!” exclaimed Shirley, uncovering the dishes, “You made serilyes! And beridelures!” The raw fish was sliced and arranged with precision.

“Ugh, what’s that smell?” Norma slammed her hands over her nose at the last dish.

Giggling at her discomfort, Shirley said, “It’s probably the feriyenazes.”

“Stable… sea… horn?”

“Pickled crab claws.”

“Ugh, gross, Senny. Next time leave me in the dark!” She groaned again when Shirley, mischievous streak revealing itself, ate an entire claw with a great deal of vocal enjoyment.

The meal proceeded as calmly as it ever did amongst the friends –that is, Moses loudly teased Jay as he suffered even more than the bandit had from the spice, Norma tried to make them wear the bread as hats, and Chloe yelled at all of them for wasting Senel’s food. Only Will sat quietly, basking in a contentment he did not often feel during mealtimes.

The food gone and all topics of conversation exhausted, they trundled out one by one into the night, thanking and complimenting his skills as they went. Chloe lingered the longest.

“Coolidge?”

“Hmm?”

“After Stingle… and then the ceremony that made Shirley the Merines… my homeland became a painful place for me.”

“Chloe…?”

“I love Gadoria, I always have. But even now I become uneasy when I’m there. Each time I visit I have to remind myself of everything that once made it home for me.”

“….”

“I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m glad you were able to make Crusand a little less painful.”

Senel laughed, softly and with no small amount of bitterness. “Can’t say I agree. After everything that’s happened, it deserves all that pain.”

“Oh?”

“Come on, Chloe, when has anything good ever come out of that country?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she replied, smiling teasingly through a light blush, “There’s at least one good thing that has.” And with that she took her leave, Senel staring after her back as it slipped away into the dimly lit night.

He smiled back.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the location of Crusand [ Crusand ](http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/aselia/images/0/06/Crusand_Empire.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20120817065632) and this [ physical map ](http://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/aselia/images/7/76/Mainland.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20121109024828), I decided to have Senel make fatayer and a generic Middle Eastern lamb stew.
> 
> As for the Ferines cuisine, I just figured they'd traditionally eat a lot of raw fish/pickled foods, given that they're a sea-based people (the game itself unhelpfully gives pastry recipes at Ferines locations). The names for the food items translate out to "great tail", "slow deadly animal", and "sea stable horn" (the last of which I used the justification of Relares being a language based on word association to fudge "zes" as "claw" rather than "horn". "Sea stable" is meant to imply the pickling process by way of brine). The second one is probably some kind of shark or something.
> 
> And yes, Chloe was tongue-tied with embarrassment for a week.


End file.
